Kitchens
by FloatingCloudBadger
Summary: A lot of things can occur in a kitchen, especially in Grimmauld Place...
1. Minerva McGonagall and Ron Weasley

**Minerva McGonagall and Ron Weasley**

**A/N – I was randomly thinking yesterday about how awkwrd it would be to have a teacher in your house, and this idea started to form…**

One thing I really hated about Grimmauld Place was that the curtains in the room I was staying in were broken, because every morning the sun coming through the rips in them woke me up at an ungodly hour. It irritated me every morning and every morning I got up, yawning, and was the first down to eat breakfast.

It wasn't that I was one of those people who had to stay in bed all day. In fact, the opposite. I much preferred to get up early – but the earliness of my Grimmauld Place mornings was just too much.

On the bright side, this meant that I didn't have to worry about getting dressed before I went down to the kitchen, because there was no chance of me running into Flitwick at that hour, or Sirius, or Hagrid (and though I wasn't exactly adverse to Hagrid seeing my pyjamas, I would rather it were in a different context).

The problem with this, however, was that I was eating cereal calmly in my pyjamas and slippers one morning, when I heard someone wander into the kitchen, wiping sleep out of their eyes.

"Hello, Mr Weasley," I said tiredly.

It amused me a little when he nearly jumped out of his skin, obviously thinking that I was a ghost, or a Death Eater. I watched as he span around, looking all the kitchen for the voice, and when he finally found who it was, his face turned bright, bright red.

"Morning, Professor," he said weakly, obviously very aware that the two of us were in our pyjamas.

His discomfort was rather sweet, if I was honest, because he was stumbling around the kitchen like a baby lamb, looking for a bowl and a spoon. That being said, I could deny that I was a little embarrassed as well. It wasn't exactly a common occurrence, students seeing me in my pyjamas. At least they were respectable ones.

Sadly, the same couldn't be said for Ron, but I knew not to concentrate of that, or even mention it. The poor boy seemed suicidal enough as it was.

It wasn't long before he found a bowl and awkwardly came and sat opposite me. "How are you, this morning, Mr Weasley?" I asked, quite calmly.

His ears reddened anew. "Fine," he mumbled through a mouth of cornflakes.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked him, trying to break the tension. After all, I wasn't his teacher when I was at Grimmauld Place.

But to my surprise, he turned even pinker in the brief seconds before he started to choke on a cornflake. Calmly handing him a glass of water, I went back to my own breakfast.

"Bloody-," he began angrily, massaging his throat, when he had finished coughing, but as I looked up from my breakfast to raise my eyebrows at him, he seemed to realise who he was with, and stopped. "Er, sorry."

I nodded. "So, why are you up at this hour?"

He avoided my eye. "Er, just had a dream," he said shiftily.

"Right," I replied suspiciously.

Ron didn't hesitate to return to his own breakfast when I had responded, looking a little relieved. I couldn't deny by this point that the whole thing was a little awkward, and I began to wish that someone else would come in and break the tension. Even the entrance of Sirius would make this less awkward.

It took Ron only a few minutes to wolf down his cereal, and when he had finished, he immediately stood up and went to put his bowl in the sink, as I sighed a quiet sigh of relief. However, as he walked over to the counter, I noticed something that puzzled me.

"Mr Weasley," I said, a little sharply, in confusion. "Why are you wearing Mr Black's pyjamas?"

I slightly regretted the question as Ron looked like he might cry. "I just borrowed them," he mumbled unhappily, the fastest I had ever heard him talk, and he quickly left the kitchen just as the penny dropped for me, and I had to put my spoon down, slightly disgusted at the thought of a Weasley having a wet dream.

**A/N – Uncomfortable moment and a half…**


	2. Hermione Granger and Nymphadora Tonks

**Hermione Granger and Nymphadora Tonks**

**A/N – No, I couldn't stay away from Tonks. Shoot me if you want.**

"Wotcher, Mione."

I winced slightly at Tonks' use of my nickname. It wasn't that I minded being called Mione – it just sounded so strange coming from Tonks' mouth. Maybe just because she wasn't only calling me that because she had a mouth full of scrambled eggs, as a certain Weasley did.

"Hello," I replied politely, glancing up at her and smiling before returning to the task at hand.

Tonks grinned back at me. "What're you doing up so late?"

"Just some knitting," I said, trying to sound absent-minded, though even I could hear my voice go a little higher.

I felt a little affronted as Tonks snorted, and when I looked up, she was looking at me, highly amused. "Give up, Mione," she advised me, a broad grin on her face. "The house elves really do not want to be freed."

This didn't do anything to improve my irritation at her amusement, and, slightly to my own surprise, I heard myself snapping at her. "They're not for the elves," I said shortly. "I actually just get cold sometimes."

"Oh."

I tried not to feel guilty at the hurt in Tonks' voice, and just tried to concentrate on my knitting instead. She quickly began to get on with whatever she had came in for, after a second, realising that I wasn't going to talk to her, and I ignored the various noises of the kettle boiling and Tonks dropping two separate mugs and breaking them.

Eventually, though, Tonks came and sat down next to me, cupping a plastic mug of hot chocolate. It was nice to hear her relax so obviously as she took her first sips.

What I didn't realise, though, was that when Tonks relaxed, she was going to start burbling on again.

"I love hot chocolate," she told me comfortably.

Sighing internally, I put down my knitting to give Tonks my full attention, realising that she wasn't going to give me her full attention otherwise. From the table beside me, I picked up my own cup of hot orange and took a sip in a companionable way.

"I don't really like hot chocolate," I told her, trying my hardest to be pleasant, in spite of how much I wanted to just get back to my knitting, or go to bed.

Tonks looked at me incredulously. "Really?" she said, seeming fairly distraught. "But it's so yummy…"

I smiled in spite of myself. "That does smell really good, actually."

"It does," Tonks agreed readily. "Remus gave it to me. He's a big chocolate fan."

It was strange how much Tonks was cheering me up. When she had entered the room, I felt like I was going to cry if I stopped knitting for a second, just feeling so tired of being me, and after this short conversation with her, I actually giggled to myself at the comment about Remus and chocolate.

And when I looked up at Tonks, I saw that she had gained a little smile too – one that she hadn't had when she came in.

It made me want to confide in her, strangely enough. We had never been close exactly – it had always been Tonks and Ginny who were friends, not Tonks and me – but this warm drinks bond was really making me like her.

"Tonks," I said slowly, after a minute. "Have you ever liked someone you can't really have?"

To my surprise, Tonks sighed. "I'm starting to," she admitted quietly, looking into the depths of her hot chocolate.

"Oh," I said softly, quite surprised at her reaction. I had thought that she would be light-hearted about such a thing. After a second, though, I plucked up my courage and timidly asked - "Who is it?"

Tonks shook her head. "Don't worry," she said, putting on a smile, and then she seemed to realise something. "Wait – who do you like?"

I found myself turning pink. "No one," I said hastily.

"Come on," Tonks scoffed at me, starting to smile again. "There's obviously someone."

I sighed. "Alright," I admitted slowly, and then I decided to let her have some information. "It's someone at Hogwarts."

"Popular?" asked Tonks, taking a sip of chocolate.

I shook my head furiously, rather amused at the thought. "Not at all."

"Right," said Tonks. "So… what does he look like?"

"He's not… traditionally attractive," I told her, considering my every word. "I don't think he's many people's type."

Tonks gave me a look. "Oh," she said, obviously intrigued, and then she seemed to think of something. "Is he here? At Grimmauld Place?"

Nearly choking on my hot orange, I felt my face turn bright, bright pink. "How did you know?" I said squeakily. "Tonks!"

But to my surprise, Tonks was looking a little nauseated. "Hermione…" she said slowly. "Do you not think it's wrong?"

I turned away from her. "I know, I know," I mumbled, and I did know. I knew I was supposed to be thinking about him like a brother, not like a… well, like a lover. He was _Ron_, after all. He was my friend.

Anyway, if I married him, I would have to watch him eating every single day.

It was just as I was thinking this that Tonks spoke again.

"I mean, you could get in trouble," she pointed out, giving me a serious look. "He's supposed to be trusted," she added darkly.

Tonks continued to glare at me, as I hung my head.

"My God," she continued, seemingly to herself. "I cannot believe you, of all people, fancy Snape."

**A/N – Hee hee, Tonks. But on a side not, according to Wikipedia, you don't have orange squash in America! How do you even survive?**


	3. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black

**Sirius Black and Remus Lupin**

**A/N – I just love the Remius. Who doesn't?**

There was only one time in the month that I could stand being at Grimmauld Place, and it only lasted 3 days.

I always made it as nice as I possibly could for Remus when it was his time of the month. I knew how to – of course I knew how to. I had been taking care of him since I was 12 years old. James had always been too busy chasing Lily and jinxing Snape, and Peter had gone nowhere near him when he was pre- or post-werewolf. I had been the one to really look after him, while Madam Pomfrey fussed over him in the Hospital Wing.

When he came into the kitchen one of these such mornings at Grimmauld Place, he looked as tired as he always did the night after full moon, but as always, I had done my best to make the kitchen homey. I had put a tablecloth onto the table – and some flowers in the middle of it – and I had opened the curtains – and even made the kitchen smell nice and fresh.

It was weird, but I liked being a housewife.

The best thing I had done, though, was that, for the first time, I had successfully made breakfast.

I was actually pretty proud of my cooking skills. I had actually made loads of toast without burning it. I had put cereal into boxes and put out Remus' favourite bowls. I had cooked bacon, and scrambled eggs, and then, the thing I was most proud of – a bowl of Honeyduke's chocolate buttons.

Remus looked thrilled at the sight of it all, as he stumbled into the kitchen. "Sirius," he said, tiredly but happily. "This is lovely."

I grinned. This was the best breakfast I had ever made. I had finally mastered the art of cooking, and I made a mental note to taunt Snivellus, who still couldn't cook, about it later.

"Thanks," I said proudly, gesturing for him to sit down.

He smiled mildly and did so, talking some toast and starting to eat it, looking famished. As I sat down opposite him, I became less bothered that it was Remus' special breakfast. Cooking really took it out of you, and I was famished.

"You've finally managed cooking," Remus said, surprised, after a minute. "This is_good._"

I nodded, my mouth full of bacon, and I was just about to reply when Remus caught sight of the chocolate buttons and nearly cried with happiness.

"I wish I was married to you," he said, laughing, taking a handful.

After breakfast, Remus still didn't feel completely like himself (though the chocolate had helped) so we decided to have a quite morning and use the Muggle "Vellytision," as Ron had told us it was called, and watch something.

"I don't know how to work this," Remus admitted quietly after fiddling for a while. "We need Arthur."

I groaned. "He won't be back for hours," I said impatiently, slightly annoyed that Remus hadn't remembered it was just us all day.

He shrugged.

"Fine," I growled. "I'll try."

Leaping up, I barely even looked at the vellytision as I pressed a random button. What surprised me was that it immediately sprang to life.

When I had gotten over my surprise, I turned to grin at Remus triumphantly. "Ha," I said proudly, as he started to smile.

Too scared of breaking it to try and change the channel, Remus and I climbed onto the sofa together and began to watch what seemed, at first, to be straight porn.

"Why are we watching this?" Remus asked me incredulously, but all I could do was shrug. I was enjoying the wolf sitting next to me too much to try and move.

It was half an hour before Remus spoke again. By this point there had been the addition of some more plot and it had actually turned into a relatively good story. These Muggles really seemed to enjoy their sex. "Sirius…" he said slowly. "Is it cold in here/"

"I'll out the fire on, if you want," I said readily, starting to get up, but Remus quickly placed his hand on my leg.

"Don't bother," he said softly, bringing the blanket up from behind the sofa. "We'll soon be warm again."

"Yeah," I said hoarsely, as he leaned his head against my shoulder.

And it was at this exact moment that the vellytision switched onto what Arthur told me were called "adverts" and the vellytision told us that what we were watching was called "Love, Actually."

**A/N – I love Love, Actually. Not as much as Remius, though.**


End file.
